This is Your Captain Speaking
by crematosis
Summary: Vacationing with Bucky and Tony is challenging, but Steve is up for anything.
A/N: I took a vacation recently, and thus, this little story of silliness was born.

Disclaimer: I'm probably borrowing from several different movie cliches, but, eh, creative license.

It had been an uneventful few months for the Avengers. There were no battles, no press conferences, no training forced on them by Fury.

Steve could tell that Tony was starting to get antsy after so much inactivity. And Bucky, too. The two of them just didn't know how to relax. But Steve loved them anyway.

"Our anniversary's next week," Tony said. "We should really go somewhere for a change. Do something exciting."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "What did you have in mind?"

"I don't know. Somewhere in Europe, maybe."

"Oh, god," Steve said. "I haven't been to Europe since the war."

It was always bittersweet to revisit places he once knew. He missed the way things had been, but he never tired of discovering new things the future had to offer. And it would definitely be nice to travel around Europe without worrying about being shot or bombed.

"I have," Bucky said quietly. "I don't remember much, though. Not sure I want to remember."

Steve gently squeezed Bucky's shoulder. "Hey, we don't have to go if it's too painful for you."

Bucky shook his head. "My therapist said I'll never get better if I don't confront the memories. We can start with something easy, like maybe a trip to Paris. Pretty sure I didn't have any missions in Paris."

"Great choice," Tony said. "And I speak French so Steve won't be freaking out about me getting lost like he did when I went on that business trip in China."

"I wasn't freaking out," Steve protested.

"He forgot about the time difference," Tony confided to Bucky. "So when I didn't call, he thought I had gotten lost exploring Beijing, but it was 2 a.m. and I was asleep. I had a laugh the next morning reading all the panicked texts he sent."

"I sent two texts, Tony. I just wanted to make sure you got to your hotel alright."

Bucky snorted. "You two are ridiculous. It's a good thing I showed up when I did or there's no telling how lovey-dovey you'd get."

"Says the man who wants to go to Paris, the city of love," Steve shot back.

"I'm not going for the love," Bucky said, slinging an arm over Tony's shoulder. "Got that right here. I'm going for the food."

Tony snorted. "We have food here. And if you want authentic French cuisine, there are plenty of chefs who would love to have the opportunity to cook for the great Tony Stark and his lovers. We are going to Paris for the scenery, okay? That's the only reason to go anywhere."

"And you're actually going to check out the sights instead of hiding away in our hotel room on your tablet?"

"Of course," Tony said indignantly. "If I do any hiding away in our hotel, the two of you are going to be with me."

"Sounds good to me," Steve said. "I'll start packing."

They arrived at the private airfield in Tony's silver Maserati. Once there, Tony scrambled on board his private jet and chatted with the pilot while two men took their luggage from the car to the plane. They were all superheroes, perfectly capable of carrying their own suitcases and it made Steve feel weird to just stand there while others did the work. But this was their vacation, he reminded himself. And Tony would make sure it was as luxurious as humanly possible.

Steve trailed after Bucky, watching his lover's awed reactions with amusement. This was the first time Bucky had been on the jet and it definitely showed.

"It's a nice plane, isn't it?" Steve said. "Much better than what we're used to."

"You're telling me," Bucky said. He ran a hand over the back of one of the seats. "Now this looks comfy. Just like the recliner in the den."

"They're heated, too," Steve said. When he had nightmares, he always felt cold for hours afterwards and he was forever grateful for the heated seats.

"Wow," Bucky said appreciatively. "You might actually be able to sleep in these things."

"No need," Steve said. He gestured towards the rear of the plane. "Tony's got a compartment with a fold-down bed, if you want to sleep. But there's plenty to keep you entertained if you're not tired."

Bucky's eyes flicked over to the stage set up in the middle of the plane. "The in-flight entertainment will probably be better than expected."

Steve snorted. "Doubtful. I know you two. When you're drunk, karaoke always seems like a good idea. Frankly, I'd rather read one of those stupid tourism magazines."

Bucky huffed. "You can talk all you want, but I distinctly remember you getting soused and trying to serenade a flagpole a few times and having to drag your dumb ass home. You're lucky you can't get drunk anymore or you'd be right up there with us."

Tony bounded out of the cockpit and slung his arms over their shoulders. "So, Jackson says we're just about ready to take off. Excited yet?"

"Hell yes," Bucky said.

"We do have to sit down when we take off, but other than that, make yourselves at home." Tony spun in a circle, pointing out the various amenities the jet boasted. "There's two bathrooms and each of them has their own shower, there's a fully stocked bar in the back and a kitchenette, Jarvis can play you any movie or song you want, Pepper made me put in a six-seat conference table which is kind of pointless, but if you have the urge to eat at an actual table, there's that."

He was rambling in a way Steve recognized as Tony's way of hoping for approval. He wanted Bucky to like the jet, Steve realized. It warmed his heart that Tony was so concerned with making Bucky comfortable, but he was also a little sad that Tony was still anxiously trying to secure their affections. They both loved Tony. He didn't need to do anything else to make them happy.

"You don't have to try and impress me," Bucky said quietly. "Hydra used to cart me around in the cargo hold. Anything is better than that."

"Aw, Buck," Tony said, his expression softening. "That's never happening again. From here on out, you're flying in style."

Over the intercom, the pilot recommended that everyone take their seats because they were preparing for takeoff.

"Wait, where are the sexy flight attendants?" Bucky asked. "Rhodes made it sound like they came with the plane."

"First of all, flight attendants are people," Tony said. "And you don't get a free person once you spend a million dollars or so. The world doesn't work like that. Secondly, never listen to Rhodey. He's always trying to make me look bad."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Tony. Pretty sure we still need fight attendants."

Tony snorted derisively. "Why? You two are all the eye candy I'll ever need. And I don't want to bother waiting on someone else to fetch my snacks when I can just get it myself."

Bucky exchanged a look with him and Steve just shrugged. If Tony wanted to be eccentric and serve all the food himself, Steve wasn't going to argue with him. As long as Tony wasn't doing any of the cooking.

Steve was actually enjoying the flight, which was something he never thought he would say before he met Tony. Jarvis was playing mellow jazz while they all enjoyed chocolate-covered strawberries and champagne Tony had brought in from the kitchen.

"Happy anniversary," Tony murmured against his neck. "Liking it so far?"

"Absolutely," Steve said. "Good food, good company. What more could a guy ask for?"

Bucky sprawled out across two seats. "I really could fall asleep in these chairs," he declared. "This is amazing."

Tony's mouth curled upward. "Get some rest while you can. We'll be in Paris in," he glanced at his watch, "about two hours. And you won't want to sleep through your first day in Paris."

The intercom crackled to life again. "Mr. Stark," the pilot said, sounding a little breathless. "Mr…Mr. Stark, I-" He cut off with a sharp gasp and a gurgling sound.

Bucky rose and pulled out his gun. "I'll check it out. You two stay here."

Tony slumped into his seat and fiddled with his tablet. "Just fucking perfect. Hijacked on our anniversary. And how the hell did this happen anyway?" He typed furiously on his tablet, occasionally muttering about security protocols, stowaways, and possible hiding places.

Steve took Tony's free hand and intertwined their fingers. "Take it easy. I doubt we're actually being hijacked. It's probably nothing. Nothing too serious, anyway."

"Guys," Bucky called from the front of the plane. "We've got a problem here."

Steve shot up from his seat and made his way to the cockpit. Bucky was crouched over the pilot's sprawled form.

"Is he…?" Steve asked hesitantly.

Bucky nodded.

"Jesus. What happened?"

"Heart attack or stroke, probably. How else do you explain a man just keeling over?"

Tony shoved his way under Steve's arm to get a look into the cockpit. "Oh my god," he said. "Jarvis, get me the suit. I can get you two out of here no problem." He bit his lip. "Oh, but all our stuff." He started pacing in and out of the cockpit. "We can maybe save some of it. But I don't know what to grab. I mean, I can always buy new clothes. But we have to save your shield for sure. And maybe-"

Steve grabbed Tony's shoulders and halted him. "Don't panic," he said. "The plane's flying in a straight course right now so we have plenty of time to look at our options. Don't do anything rash."

Tony sucked in a deep breath. "Yeah, okay. We'll talk it over. C'mon, Bucky. Let's start looking through your stuff and picking out everything you can't live without."

"Like hell I will," Bucky muttered, sprawling across the copilot's empty chair. "You're going to get us out of this mess as soon as you stop panicking. I know you will."

"I can't," Tony snapped. "I don't know how to fly a plane. Maybe if I sat down and fiddled with the controls for an hour I could figure something out, but by that time we'll probably crash somewhere."

Steve ran his hand over the control panel. "Alright, then. It's up to me."

"Don't touch anything," Tony hissed. "What if you touch the self-destruct button or something?"

"What do you think this is, a cartoon?" Bucky muttered. "Airplanes don't have self-destruct buttons."

Steve gave Bucky a look and gently squeezed Tony's hand. "Relax, babe. This isn't the first plane I've ever flown."

"Oh, you mean the Hydra plane? The plane you crashed in the middle of the fucking ocean?"

"No, you idiot. A real plane. I'm working on my pilot's license."

Tony gaped at him. "You're taking flying lessons?"

Steve shrugged. "My therapist seemed to think it would help with the nightmares."

"No fair," Bucky grumbled. "I want to switch therapists."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Next month, we're scheduled to fly the same route I did when I went down to prove to myself it's never happening again. So, don't complain. I have to face my past, too."

"This is all really great," Tony said, his voice just a little too high. "But we're not talking about one of those tiny little practice planes, Steve. This is a big-ass jet."

"I know. This is what I've been flying."

Tony's mouth dropped open. "You," he spluttered. "You were flying my jet?"

"You told me I could borrow any of your vehicles any time I wanted. So I did. One of your regular pilots has been teaching me." Steve shrugged. "I probably should have started with a smaller plane, but I figure I won't really conquer my fears unless it's something big like the Hydra plane. Sorry for not discussing it with you first."

"Don't be sorry," Tony said. "If you hadn't taken those lessons, we'd all be dead right now."

Steve reached for the microphone. "This is your captain speaking," he said, ignoring Bucky's snort. "Enjoy your flight."

Tony just stared at him as he hung up the mic.

"I've always wanted to say that," Steve said cheerfully.

"Of course you did," Bucky said. "You fucking dork."

Steve shoved him out of the copilot's chair. "Get back to your seat. I'll tell you when we're ready to land."

"Aw, you're no fun. Fine, stay here and play with your controls. Tony's going to show me his best flight attendant impression and do some pole dancing."

"I will not," Tony said indignantly.

"Yes, you will. Betcha a bottle of sake."

"I'd have to drink a whole bottle of sake just to consider the idea," Tony muttered. He gave Steve a pleading look. "You sure Bucky can't stay up here with you? Bet he'd love introducing you to the Mile High club."

Bucky licked his lips. "Now there's a thought."

Steve chuckled. "Sorry, no. If Bucky goes down on me, we're all going down."

Tony sighed theatrically. "So my heroic sacrifice once again saves the day. Alright, Bucky, let's break out the sake."

Steve smiled at Tony's long-suffering act, not missing the way he leaned in for a kiss from Bucky or the way they walked hand in hand back to the bar.

"Happy anniversary," he whispered to himself. He couldn't wait for the next one.


End file.
